Beginnings and After
by TitanWolf
Summary: ever wonder how the ghosts became ghosts? well wonder no more, as i go through the ghost's of DP and tell of their lives ans deaths.
1. Youngblood

**Beginnings and After**

**Chapter 1**

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING!**

**Youngblood **

"Why do I let him talk me into these things?" Richard Gage asked himself. He was a tall, rail thin man in his early forties. He was employed as the head butler at the Withering Estates just outside of Amity Park, and currently he was on his hands and knees while the young master of the house, Zachary Withering, was climbing on dressed as a cowboy.

"Giddyup!" he shouted, kicking Gage in the side, he'd included spurs on the boots, causing him to start crawling around on the floor. "Yeehaw!"

Gage groaned at this. The young master was very stressing at times, pulling pranks and other nonsense all around the estate. Not to mention the games he talked the aging butler to do, whether it was being his first mate or his horse, Gage was helpless against Zachary's wishes.

"Your supposed to make horsy sounds!" he shouted in Gage's ear.

"Neigh." he replied dryly. "Snort."

The game went on for over an hour. When it was over Zachary demanded that Gage fix him dinner. Soon Gage was standing over the stove making macaroni and cheese, as the rest of the servants were gone for a week for vacation and the master and mistress were also gone on business until tomorrow. Carrying it out to the massive dining room, where the young master sat at the head of the long oak wood table.

"Less cheese." Zachary said, looking down at the plate of food.

Gage went to make more.

"More macaroni." the young master said when the butler returned, forcing him back to the kitchen.

"More cheese." he whined again. Gage clenched his free hand shut tightly, for fear that it would lash out and hit the spoiled boy in the chops. So he once again returned to the kitchen and cook more, adding more cheese until it was even perfectly and carried it out to the table and set it down, right before Zachary smacked it, sending it crashing to the floor.

"I hate macaroni and cheese." Zachary said, hopping down from the table and running off somewhere, leaving Gage with a mess to clean up. He retrieved the mop and bucket from the closet and began to clean. When he finished Gage preceded upstairs and found Zachary playing with his blocks.

"Time for your bath young master." he said, almost immediately the boy started whining about how he didn't want to and that he was busy. "If you take your bath you can have ice cream."

Gage watched his eyes light up in delight and made his way to the bathroom to prepare the bathwater. Kneeling down he turned both knobs until the water was lukewarm and let it fill up. After turning the water off he heard the patter of Zachary's feet coming down the hall and went to open the door.

"I want chocolate ice cream." he said promptly, handing Gage the towel and hopping in the bath tub.

"I shall fetch it post haste." he replied, closing the door and making his way down to the kitchen. Gage thought about all the years of service he given to the estate, arriving at the young age of 19 and starting as the assistant of the head butler at the time, Julian Mercer, the 5 years he spent under the older man were the most enlightening of his life. He taken over as head butler when Julian retired after a severe stroke.

Entering the kitchen he noticed the dirty pots from dinner and decided to quickly scrub them clean and then fetch Zachary's ice cream, the boy probably was too busy splashing around to notice anyway. He now thought about the boy and remembered how it had been in the beginning. He had been the one to get up all hours of the night to tend to the baby, then perform his daily duties on top of that. In the middle somewhere he grew to love the boy.

Gage finished the dishes and placed them in their places and made his way to the refrigerator with bowl and opened the freezer, pulling the ice cream out he placed it on the counter and began scooping out the frozen treat until it was full. Putting the ice cream back he made his way up the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Sir I have your ice cream." Gage said. "Are you finished bathing?"

After not getting an answer he opened the door with his free hand and peeked in, finding it empty. He was used to this trick, he'd approached the tub, thinking it was empty and the young master would splash him.

"Oh it looks like the young master is gone." he said, faking surprise. "I'd better let the water out of the tub-"

When he reached the tub his voice hitched in his throat and he felt his blood ran cold. Zachary was lying on the bottom of the tub, still as a stone. He was vaguely aware of the ice cream hitting the floor as he quickly grabbed Zachary and pulled him out of the tub, he didn't notice the blood running through his left hand that was supporting his charge's head and missed the stain on the bottom of the tub.

He placed the boy on the floor and started performing CPR, desperately trying to get the young child to breath. He did this for several minutes before giving up and clutching Zachary to his chest, he didn't care that his shirt was soaked through, he only cared for the boy in his arms. Standing up he started down the stairs and out the door, the boy held carefully in his arms. Walking down the road he started toward Amity Park, a good three mile walk but that didn't matter at present.

Gage was barely aware that a car had stopped and that people were getting out, when they tried to take Zachary from him he sprang to life and snarled at them.

"You will not touch him!" he roared. "He is mine!"

Someone called the police and they arrived quickly to the scene, as did paramedics. They subdued Gage and put Zachary in the ambulance, after covering him with the sheet. That was the end of his job as a butler, Gage spent the rest of his days wandering from bar to bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap beer, until the day he just collapsed in the gutter.

He awoke on a large platform in a strange place, purple doors floated all around him. He took it all in and felt a presence at the other end of the platform and made his way over, he felt his heart leap with joy at seeing the boy again.

"Young master!" he exclaimed, hurrying over he scooped Zachary in his arms and hugged him tightly. "How I have missed you!"

He finally released him and looked at the boy for the first time in ten years, his soft brown hair was now glowing green, he was dressed as a cowboy.

"Wanna play cowboys?" he asked, causing Gage to smile, immediately he felt himself change to meet his masters need.

"Don't worry master I won't fail you again." he said, as the boy hopped onto his back.

"Yeehaw!" Zachary shouted.

"Neigh!" Gage added, full of excitement.

He had his boy, forever.

**END CHAPTER 1**

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	2. Skulker

**Beginnings and After**

**Chapter 2**

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING!**

**Skulker**

The full moon hung low in the sky over the Indian jungle, in the darkness a small campfire was blazing. A figure sat beside it. A big imposing man, John Werner, dressed in khaki and hiking boots, a large hunting knife held in his hand glinted against the light. Leaning against his leg is an 8 gauge shotgun, in the tent is a large 30.30.

"Where are you?" he asked the darkness, off in the distance a tiger roared loudly, causing the man to smile. "Enjoy your last night as king. For tomorrow your hide is going to sit at the foot of my bed."

The next morning Werner gathered his things and started off. He pushed his way through the foliage, occasionally ducking a low hanging branch. Coming to a clearing he dropped to one knee when a branch snapped nearby, shouldering his rifle the hunter watched as a Samba deer came into sight. Watching as it look around before starting to eat grass, seconds later rifle kicked back as Werner pulled the trigger. The deer jerked and jumped in the air, flipping over and landed on it's side, unmoving.

After shouldering the rifle again Werner made his way toward the deer and placed his guns on the ground and pulled his knife and started skinning the deer. When he finished the deer was strung up in a tree. Werner would backtrack here later to check if anything came. A rustle in the bushes caught his attention, seconds later several yellow and black things burst from cover and ran for him.

The closest spotted hyena leaped and clamped it's jaws down on Werner's meaty forearm, causing him to scream. He brought his fist down on the animal's neck with a snap and watched it drop away. Pulling his knife he grabbed the next one in mid jump and jammed the knife in it's chest and tossed it back at the other hyenas, stopping their charge, growling at him they started to circle, two going left and two going right.

"Come on." Werner mumbled, keeping the four hyenas in his line of vision. "Come on."

Almost immediately they came for him together, forcing the seasoned hunter to retreat. Across the clearing he came to a river and found himself trapped, turning around he looked at the snarling animals and quickly took a stance. Instead of once again working together they came individually. The first he grabbed and tossed into the river, as it started swimming back to shore a large crocodile burst up from under the water and seized the struggling hyena in it's jaws and disappeared underwater, blood floated to the top.

"I think I'll skip my bath today." he said to himself.

The three remaining hyenas thought it better and retreated into the jungle. Werner breathed a sigh of relief and made his way back to the clearing to get his guns and bandage his arm. Several minutes later found him kneeling in the jungle, looking at pug marks, a large leopard's. Standing up he followed them for a quarter of a mile before coming to rest under a large tree.

"Two trophies are better than one. A leopard skin bathrobe made from real leopard sounds nice or pajamas. The tiger will make a good throw rug, it's skull would serve as a coaster." he said to himself, as he stood to continue something cannoned into his back, knocking him to the ground. Immediately he felt claws slashing at his back and tried to roll away, only to be stopped by whatever it was attacking him.

Moving to his knees he reached over his shoulders and grasped the thing by the neck and tossed it over and away. Looking ahead he was met by the snarling face of a leopard charging at him. Standin up he grabbed the large cat and lifted it over his head, it snarled and growled while writhing furiously. he brought it down over his knee with a loud snap as it's back broke, paralyzing it. Looking down at the pathetic creature Werner pulled his knife once again and brought it down into the big cat's throat and pulled it out, followed by a gush of blood.

He removed his shirt and tore strips from the shredded thing to wrap his wounds, after he sat down to rest and built a fire by using the sticks around him. He sat and looked at the dancing flames as the blood was wiped from his knife and thought about all the kills he obtained over the years. The lion in Kenya, the grizzly up in Canada, the two man-eating wolves out in Arizona. All were either mounted on his wall or adorned on something else. The tiger would be the greatest trophy if he brought it down.

"I'll snap it's neck with one hand." he said, looking down at his muscular hand, then up to the bandage on his forearm from the hyena, this would not be easy. "Just the way I like it."

He sleep until late the next morning and awoke to find something had dragged the leopard away in the night. Standing up he quickly followed the trail and soon came to a sheer cliff. Walking to the edge he looked down to see the Ganges river far below. He was alerted to a presence and turned to see a large Bengal tiger, it's mouth and chest dripping with blood. Werner slowly shouldered the 8 gauge and watched as the tiger roared slowly and paced back and forth, slowly getting closer.

Something was different, it wasn't showing any fear. Despite their ferocious nature tigers were fearful of humans and avoided them at all costs. Werner looked into the green eyes that showed fury and anger, this animal had no fear of him at all, it's lips curled back to show it's huge teeth and roared again before charging forward. Werner waited until the tiger sprang and pulled the trigger.

Click, a blank.

The last thing John Werner ever saw was the tiger soaring through the air, knocking him to the ground, and it's teeth ripping out his throat.

He awoke in a strange place, a void. His body was different as well. Gone were his muscles and good looks, only a small green blob was there.

"This can't be I'm the greatest hunter ever!" he shouted. "I am John Werner!"

He would prove it.

That he was the best.

They would all see soon enough.

**END CHAPTER 2**

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	3. Technus

**Beginnings and After**

**Chapter 3**

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING**

**Technus**

The pounding music that filled the club had a catchy beat to it. The multicolored strobe lights were a nice touch as they covered the room décor nicely. He'd came prepared this time and was ready, dressed like John Travolta from that movie he couldn't remember the name of, and brought along his copy of Hip and Happening Slang for Morons.

"With this book of slang I Technus will finally have a date!" he shouted out loud, causing people close by to stare. "Did I say that out loud?"

Slipping the book in his back pocket the self proclaimed master of slang made a beeline for the dance floor. He moved to the music using moves he seen from movies with Patrick Swayze. With all the arm thrusting and pelvic gyrating Technus was dancing up a storm, and attracting shocked stares. After working up a sweat he made his way back to the bar and ordered a drink, while waiting he looked around the room until his eyes landed on a girl at the end of the bar, licking his hand he ran it through his hair, only for it to pop back up and started over.

"So do you come to this fine dancing establishment often?" he asked, the girl looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah I come here a lot." she replied, turning away from him, you'd think he'd get the message but no, he missed it completely.

"That's good because I Technus also frequent this dancing establishment not only for the funky fresh music but also for the far out liquor-based drinks." he said, raising his eyebrow suggestively. "Would you care to leave with me and rendezvous back to my happening bachelor pad?"

The girl snorted at this.

"As if grandpa." she said, walking away from him, but not before throwing her drink in his face.

"Grandpa, that girl had the nerve to call I Technus, the embodiment of a young hip and happening dude grandpa." he said aloud, confused at her words. "I am not old by any means, I'm only 46."

After his outer monolog Technus tried again and again to get a girl to talk to him, only to get either shot down, told off, or slapped, or any combination of the three. So after another failed night the self proclaimed master of slang made his way back to his apartment. Various mechanical things lay scattered around the room, as were piles of magazines from the 60's and 70's.

Sitting down on the ratty couch Technus picked up the magazine sitting on the cushion beside him and started reading about the new device called a microwave.

"This is amazing, when does this far out device come out?!" he exclaimed, looking at the date he saw it read 1965. "I must get one of these devices for myself!"

Running over to the calendar, which had a picture of Elvis on it, had the date September 1, 1993.

"I cannot believe it, I Technus have been reading that article for over 28 years!" he exclaimed, before running from the apartment and down to the street below. "Taxi!"

The yellow cab pulled over, allowing him to get in.

"To the nearest electronics store!" he exclaimed, pointing out in front of him, his arm jutting over the seat and past the drivers head.

"Put your arm back behind the seat." he said dryly. "Or get out."

"Sorry." he said sheepishly.

Several minutes later he exited the cab and quickly thrust a crumpled twenty at the driver and ran inside. Passing aisle after aisle he did not see the far out and funky fresh machine he wanted. After five minutes he finally exploded.

"I Technus am finally peeved and or annoyed by the lack of a microwave in my line of vision-" and you get the gist of the long rant. As the tech wizard looked up he saw what he needed on the top shelf. "That's convenient."

He jumped up and down, always falling short of reaching the device he desired, so he decided to stack boxes and climbed up. While Technus climbed a blue collar worker by the name of Fred Sanders was walking past with old boxes he took home and collected. He stopped and looked at the stack.

"Who would dare to abuse the greatness of boxes like this?" he asked him, looking the makeshift tower over he noticed an extremely small box at the bottom, straining with all the weight and ready to bust. "No!"

Sanders yanked the box free, causing the tower to collapse.

At the top.

"Finally I Technus have reached the most sought after device today, the microwave!" he exclaimed, holding it triumphantly over his head.

"No!" a voice down at the bottom yelled.

"Huh who shouted and interrupted Tech-" he began but the tower gave way, causing Technus to drop the microwave and frantically grab the shelf, causing it to shake and sway. He eventually lost his grip and fell.

"Don't worry tiny box you are safe as I Fred-" he began, but was cut off by Technus' microwave hitting him on the head, knocking him to the floor. "Ow that hurt but other than that I'm o-"

Technus finally landed on him, looking around he spotted his microwave lying next to him. Once again he lifted it over his head.

"Yes once again I Technus have-" it was then he noticed the large shelf falling toward him, his glasses slid down his nose. "Oh no."

The shelf came crashing down and crushed both men, killing them instantly. Several minutes later Technus floated up from under the shelf and looked at himself.

"What has happened, I have become a ghost." he said, looking at his hands. "How could this have happened?"

As if to answer his question Fred Sanders floated up as well.

"I am the Box Ghost master of all things rectangular." he said, waving his arms around, trying to be scary, failing miserably.

"You are the cause of this?" Technus asked, felling his anger boil he noticed electronic things were floating now. "You will pay for this as I Technus will see to it!"

The electronics floated up beside the skinnier ghost and crackled with energy. The Box Ghost looked on in shock.

"Beware…" he said weakly, before fleeing the shop.

Technus right on his tail.

**END CHAPTER 3**

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	4. Walker

**Beginnings and After**

**Chapter 4**

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING!**

**Walker**

The assorted men stood in a line, their hands and feet shackled together, and hook to the man on either side of them. Glancing around they watched as guards patrolled the upper catwalks of Angola, several carried shotguns, others carried rifles. The warden, Sampson Niles, was a squat, toad-like man dressed in a blue suit, with balding grey hair and a thick moustache. He smiled at the men with a kind, old man smile that he would give his grandson, but; his grey eyes showed a hardness that terrified them.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Angola prison. I'm the warden here, my name is Sampson Niles," he said. "I hope your stays here, no matter how long, will be uneventful, because, I don't take too kindly to rule breakers here. Now, are there any questions?"

A pudgy man dressed in a suit that looked too small for him raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"When do we eat?" he asked, as Niles looked past him, and nodded.

"Mr. Walker, if you please," Niles said. The line turned to see a tall man wearing a black guard uniform, a former quarterback in high school, Byron Walker cut an imposing figure, 6'5, 215. The other guards carried large weapons, Walker only carried a pistol, and a baton. Walker moved from behind the line to where the pudgy man stood, and pulled his baton from its holster.

"You'll eat when we tell you to needle dick!" he exclaimed, before swing the baton, sending it crashing into the man's groin. When the man grabbed his hurt area and made the mistake of bending over, Walker struck him on the back of the head, and gave him another when he tried to stand back up. "Get this fat piece of pig shit to the infirmary."

"You see boys, your spirits belong to god," Niles said, as two guards unshackled the hurt man, who was bleeding from the mouth, and dragged him off. "But your ass belongs to me, welcome to Angola."

Under the cover of darkness, Walker along with two other guards dragged the fat prisoner outside the prison walls. If anyone listened carefully, they'd have heard a gunshot ring out as Walker put a bullet in the man's cracked skull.

The next day, Walker was called to the warden's office. Niles desk was one of those antique oak desks, large, and extremely heavy. Several pictures of his family looked back at Walker with frozen smiles, a dish sat at the edge, holding over a dozen pieces of butterscotch candy. Walker fish out three, popped one in his mouth, and put the other two in his coat pocket.

"You took care of the prisoner last night like you were told?" Niles asked.

"Yes sir I did," Walker replied, as he sucked on the piece of hard candy in his mouth. "There's nothing I love more than justice."

Niles smiled at this.

"That's something you and I agree on Byron," Niles said. "I hate lawlessness, it sickens me to see all the crimes that go unpunished by the justice system, killers go free when evidence disappears even though its completely obvious to a blind man they're guilty. But; I did call you here for a reason. One of our "men" in with the prisoners says there's to be a riot tonight, and that they plan to kill me. Now, you're my most loyal guard, I trust you. I know that you'll insure I'm safe. That's why I want you to make an example of the ringleader of this riot, nip it in the bud if you will."

"Of course warden," Walker said, as he patted the baton on his belt. "Just give me his name."

"Javier Escuella," Niles said, leaning back in his chair. "He's out in the yard, the perfect place to show we mean business. Take care of it."

"Anything you say boss," Walker said, as he stood up. "Won't take me a minute."

Leaving the warden's office Walker made his way down to the main floor, and exited out into the yard. Prisoners playing basketball or lifting weights stopped to watch as Walker made his way over to a large group of Mexican prisoners.

"Which one of you greasers is Javier Escuella?" Walker asked, eyeing the whole group. A tall, lanky man with slicked back hair, and multiple tattoos covering his arms stood up, and looked at Walker with a disapproving glare, like Walker was beneath him.

"Why you want me for screw?" Escuella asked.

"We got word that your planning to kill the warden during a riot," Walker said, pulling his baton. "I don't take to kindly to that."

Escuella sneered, and pulled a shive, a sharpened toothbrush from his pocket, and began to circle. Walker only turned as Escuella moved, keeping his eyes on the Mexican. With lightning speed Escuella leaped forward and stabbed, but; Walker grabbed his wrist, and brought his baton smashing onto Esculla's hand. A sickening snap was heard as his hand hung limply, the shive fell to the ground.

Letting out a shrill yell of pain Escuella tried to pull free, but; Walked nailed his with another baton hit to the throat, and another to the back of the head when he fell to his knees. The sound of shouting, then screaming from the guard towers caught Walker's attention, when he turned to look, he saw several prisoners shoving guards over the rail to the ground below, seconds before a rifle bullet entered his chest, sending Walker crashing to the ground. As his vision started to swim, another Mexican, with his long hair tied back in a ponytail came and knelt beside him.

"Hey homes let me tell you something," he said, as he picked up Walker's baton. "He ain't Escuella, I am, and we run Angola now."

Walker's vision started to go black, but; not before he saw the real Escuella stand up, and bring Walker's own weapon down on the fallen guard's head.

He awoke in a strange place, everywhere he looked he saw ghosts running wild around him. Looking at himself, Walker saw he was wearing white. Reaching out he grabbed a hold of a ghost that flew too close.

"Where am I?" he asked, the ghost looked at him in confusion.

"Your in the Ghost Zone stupid," he said. "Where did you think you were?"

"I was at Angola prison a minute ago," Walker said, looking around. "Now, I'm here."

"Angola prison? It ain't here," the ghost said. "Heck, there ain't any prisons in the Ghost Zone."

"No prisons?" Walker said, confused. "There isn't any law?"

"Nope, none whatsoever," the ghost said, before he turned intangible, and slipped out of Walker's hands. "See you later."

Walker watched him float away before a wave of anger washed over him, no prisons, no law, that wouldn't do at all! He felt the Ghost Zone start to shift and change to his anger, soon, in a matter of minutes a large prison looked back at him.

There was a prison now.

There would be law soon.

Every ghost would soon see.

They will all fear.

Walker.

**End Chapter 4**


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